The Favoured Few
by MissBubbles
Summary: In the aftermath of Agravaine's treachery, the people of Camelot attempt to put themselves back together. Gwaine watches, and does his best to ignore the sense of catasrophe drawing near. In disfavour, Agravaine's children do what they can to win back the king's trust, if not his love, and to turn a blind eye to the tragedy that awaits them. This is Camelot, after the storm.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Set after the fourth series. Based loosely on _The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle_, although when I say loosely, I mean as loosely as Merlin is based on the legend of King Arthur: names and basic facts only. I've decided Gwaine was under-used in series four, so here he is getting a storyline all to himself (okay, he'll be sharing it a bit, but mostly its his). Ragnelle has been a hard character to figure out, but hopefully she'll turn out to be a decent enough hero (or heroine - however you like to see it). If she was in The Hunger Games, she'd probably be Fox Face. If she was in Twilight, she'd stick the vampire with a stake. I've beaten as much of the Mary-Sue out of her as is humanly possible, so I hope it shows. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

The horses' hooves kicked up gravel and dirt as they cantered into the courtyard. Gwaine watched over the King's shoulder as the riders pulled their mounts to an abrupt halt at the foot of the castle steps. It was only a small party; three guards and their two charges: a young woman and a boy caught in that awkward place between childhood and manhood. Gwaine wondered if the guards were there to protect them or to keep them from escaping.

The woman dismounted easily, but was left holding her horse's reins as the stableboy rushed instead to her brother's aid. She waited patiently, but once her brother was off his horse the stableboy led his mount away and left the woman with her hands still full. There was a moment of confusion, as the boy hesitated and his sister jerked her head towards the royal party waiting on the castle steps.

'For crying out loud,' Arthur muttered beneath his breath as the boy began to make his way up the steps without his sister. 'Merlin, go and take the horse.'

Merlin dodged between Gwaine and Gaius' shoulders and quick-stepped down to the courtyard, passing the young man halfway. They glanced at each other, but the boy was quick to look away again. As he drew nearer, Gwaine could see the resemblance between him and his father, although there was something lither about the son and his eyes seemed several shades lighter.

When he was two steps below the King he bowed. 'Your Majesty.'

Gwaine looked at Arthur, who had his eyes narrowed. Perhaps he had also noticed the family resemblance.

'Galahad,' Arthur's tone was cool and clipped.

At the sound of his name, Galahad straightened. Gwaine was surprised to see that he almost matched the King in height, even though he was standing two steps below him and must have been several years younger.

Arthur seemed to straighten his back a little more. 'You've grown since I last saw you.'

Gwaine bit his tongue and hid a smile.

'Yes,' Galahad couldn't seem to think of anything else to say after that and the quiet quickly became awkward.

Gwaine turned his gaze to Galahad's sister, who was making her way up the steps now that Merlin had taken her horse from her. She lacked a certain grace that Gwaine had expected from her, and she looked even more like her father than her brother did, with her round face and dark eyes. She was not particularly pretty, Gwaine thought.

When she reached her brother's side she curtsied low before the King. 'Your Majesty,' she said, her eyes planted firmly on the paving stones.

'Lady Ragnelle.' Arthur's voice was clear enough for everyone gathered on the steps to hear, but a chill clung to it. 'You are welcome in Camelot.'

'Thank you, Your Majesty. We are glad to be here.' Ragnelle's words were flat and, Gwaine thought, well-rehearsed. He did not blame her; with her father gone, her words were all she had left to protect herself.

Arthur hesitated and then offered her his hand. She took it and rose to her feet, and at last they looked at each other.

'Come inside. It's growing cold,' Arthur said, before turning away and offering Guinevere his arm. She took it, but she looked uncertain. Gwaine wondered if she ever regretted becoming Arthur's queen; life as a serving girl was surely far less complicated.

The pair swept away with all the grace that Ragnelle had lacked, and the crowd parted to let them pass. The King's cousins followed, Galahad trailing at Ragnelle's heels. The rest of the welcome party went after them.

Merlin, having passed Ragnelle's horse over to a stableboy, appeared again at Gwaine's side. 'Well, that didn't go too badly,' he said.

Gwaine shrugged, 'Who knows. Arthur didn't look convinced.'

Gaius, walking on Merlin's other side, looked doubtful. 'Lady Ragnelle will have to do a great deal more than curtsey if she is to convince Arthur that she is trustworthy. And as for Galahad...' The physician trailed off, his mouth set in a thin, serious line.

Merlin frowned, 'Arthur cannot blame them for Agravaine's betrayal. He knows better than anyone how it feels to be held responsible for a father's faults.'

Gwaine looked after Ragnelle and Galahad. 'He's the King. In my experience that means he can do what he likes.' Arthur was angry and afraid; He'd been betrayed too many times by the people he loved. Gaius was right: it would take a lot to persuade Arthur that he could trust his cousins.

'Come on, Gwaine, you're going to miss the show.' Elyan slapped Gwaine on the shoulder as he passed. Gwaine had been trailing at the back of the crowd alongside Merlin and Gaius; as a knight of Camelot he should have been at the front of the procession, ready to defend the King and Queen at a moment's notice. Gwaine didn't think they were in much danger; Ragnelle didn't look like the type who would stab an unsuspecting king in the back without warning. It was one small difference between her and her father. Perceval and Leon were close behind the King and his cousins, however, should Gwaine be mistaken.

Elyan was quick to catch up with them, although Tristan trailed up beside Gwaine at the back, apparently unconcerned about staying within sight of the royal crowd. Unlike the others, Tristan was not swathed in the crimson of Camelot. He may have agreed to fight for Arthur, but he had yet to take any oath that bound him to the King's service. He offered Gwaine a silent nod of greeting.

A clump of courtiers had gathered outside the council chambers, craning their necks to catch a final glimpse of the king's troubled cousins before they disappeared behind closed doors. This meeting was to be private – or as private as it could be with four armed knights in the room. Gwaine slipped through the crowd after Merlin and Gaius, and entered the room just as the doors began to swing shut. He left Tristan's side and took his place beside the other knights.

The door creaked closed.

'Here we go,' he heard Merlin mutter beneath his breath. Gaius gave his assistant a look that could silence a songbird.

The room remained quiet for a time, as Arthur carefully regarded his cousins. They stood side-by-side, straight-backed and straight-faced. Galahad was more than a head taller than his sister, but his shoulders were stiffer and he was obviously more uncomfortable being scrutinised than she was. It was Ragnelle who commanded the attention, although Gwaine couldn't say why. She watched Arthur's every move with a keen gaze that made her look even more like her father than she already did. That would not help her to win Arthur's affection.

'I trust you had a good journey,' Arthur said at last, obviously stalling the serious business for the moment.

'Yes, your Majesty. Thank you.' Ragnelle's reply was somehow disappointing, even though the mundane question commanded no interesting answer.

'I'm glad to hear it. The roads are full of enemies these days.' Arthur had chosen his words carefully and everyone watched for a reaction from Agravaine's children. Galahad glanced at his sister, who did nothing.

'I am sorry to see that Gaheris is not with you,' Arthur continued.

Ragnelle was ready for him. 'My brother sends you his apologies and begs Your Majesty's pardon. He was taken ill a week past and is unable to travel.'

'I see.' Arthur didn't seem to believe the excuse, but there was little he could do to challenge it. After a long pause, he seemed to decide that that was enough of the niceties. 'You are here to swear allegiance to me and to Guinevere, as your rightful sovereigns.' He paused, waiting, but nothing happened. 'Will you do this willing before the court?'

'Of course, Your Majesty.' Ragnelle took a letter from the pocket of her travelling coat and offered it to the king with both hands. 'Gaheris has also sent you this written declaration of his loyalty to Your Majesty.'

This seemed to throw Arthur slightly; he had not expected it to be so easy. After a slight hesitation on his part, he reached out and took the letter from Ragnelle's hands. 'Thank you.'

There was a short moment of silence in which no one seemed sure what to do, and then Arthur recovered and turned to the knights. 'Sir Elyan, Sir Gwaine, please escort Lady Ragnelle and her brother to the chambers that have been prepared for them.' Arthur turned back to his cousins, 'You will want to wash and rest before the feast tonight.'

Ragnelle took a breath, as if she might say something, but then she let it go and curtsied. 'Thank you, Your Majesty.'

Elyan stepped forward and bowed, and Gwaine followed suit. The gesture had never come easily to him, however, and his bow was certainly shallower and shorted than Elyan's had been. He thought that Ragnelle noticed, because her eyes lingered on him a little longer than they had on Elyan. Gwaine expected her to say or do something about it, but she suddenly seemed to lose interest and looked away. He turned and began to make his way towards the doors, Elyan at his side and the King's cousins following after.

XXX

It had been seven years since Ragnelle had been to Camelot. She'd been born here, but after Ygraine and Tristan had died, Agravaine had moved his wife and children to the family's lands in the north. Galahad had been born there and their visits to court had been infrequent. It was impossible to travel with three young children, her father had always said. Ragnelle and Arthur had been distantly aquainted; forced to write to each other by their parents from time to time. But when they were together – when Ragnelle was allowed one of her infrequent summers in the south, or when Arthur was allowed one of his even less frequent journeys to the north – they had never enjoyed one another's company. Ragnelle had been plain and shy, and Arthur had been reckless and unkind in his youth.

Ragnelle had been allowed more time at court when Morgana had become Uther's ward. She was thought to be a good companion for the lonely little girl, and Morgana had been a kinder child than Arthur had. But Ragnelle's visits to court had stopped altogether when her mother had died, and she could make little sense of what had happened here since. A lot had changed in seven years.

She wondered if the armed escort to their rooms was going to be a permanent measure.

'My lady, your rooms are just down here.' Elyan indicated a passage to the left.

Ragnelle frowned, 'There aren't any guest rooms down there, only...' she stopped herself before she said it.

Elyan gave her a pointed look. 'There are guest rooms now, My Lady. Sir Gwaine will escort you the rest of the way. If your brother would like to follow me...' He was cold and courteous, which was fair enough considering her father had tried to have his sister killed on more than one occasion.

The way Galahad drew his next breath told her that he was annoyed. Although people didn't ignore him, he was often neglected in conversation – people had a habit of talking about him, rather than too him. Being here would surely make it worse, as he was even more unfamiliar with court life than she was. Even now he was slouching, and he kept glancing about as though he was looking for a way of escaping. It wasn't helping him to dispel the untrustworthy image they'd been saddled with now that their father was dead.

'Very well. I'll see you at dinner,' she said to Galahad. He glanced at her sideways and then followed Elyan down the corridor to the right without a word. He was probably annoyed with her as well; that was usually the case these days.

'Young people,' she turned to look at Sir Gwaine, who was smirking after Galahad, 'Always feeling sorry for themselves,' he said.

This irked her. 'He's not feeling sorry for himself. He's just...' she stopped, because she didn't know what was wrong with him, other than that he was young and self-pitying. Irritated, she started walking down the corridor Elyan had indicated. She knew where she was going; there was only one set of chambers down here. Clearly Arthur was trying to tell her something.

'I suppose you aren't feeling sorry for yourself either?' Gwaine followed after her. She didn't like his easy tone, but she didn't say anything because there would be no point to it.

'I assume I'm being put in here.' She stopped outside a familiar door and looked at Gwaine pointedly. He seemed unfazed by her icy tone.

Ragnelle pulled open the door to Morgana's old room. 'Thank you, I can manage alone from here.' Her intent had been to step across the threshold and close the door in his face, but as she turned to do so she caught sight of his expression – his lips were curled with the slightest of smiles – and she wanted to defend herself.

'Even if I did feel sorry for myself, would you not agree I have the right to? My parents are dead, my eldest brother is dying, and my cousin thinks I'm a traitor. How would you feel?'

His smile didn't disappear altogether, but it became less smug and the look in his eyes grew more curious.

'Well, you don't look like a traitor, but neither did your father.'

Ragnelle's hand tightened around the door knob. She would have given anything then to say something witty; a cutting remark that would silence him and send him away cowed, but she could think of nothing. Even if she could, it wouldn't mean anything, because what he'd said was true. She went to close the door.

'If you need anything, let me know.'

She glanced at Gwaine again. He was being genuine, or at least seemed to be, but she couldn't dare to trust him. He was loyal to Arthur, and right now Arthur wasn't her closest ally.

She closed the door.

XXX

Gwaine had a feeling he should have been more serious. It was a feeling he was familiar with, but one he frequently ignored. Lady Ragnelle wasn't what he'd been expecting. He'd been expecting someone more sultry and deceptive; he'd been expecting her to jump to her father's defence. Instead she was just like any other women he might have met at market or in the kitchens.

He met Elyan coming back from the direction of Galahad's chambers.

'Arthur will want us back in the council chambers.' Elyan knew how to be serious.

Gwaine turned with him, back the way they'd come. 'I hope Galahad made better conversation than his sister.'

'Didn't say a word,' Elyan said. His hand rested absently on the hilt of his sword and Gwaine wondered if that gesture had been what had put Galahad off the idea of talking.

'Did you say anything to him?' Gwaine asked.

Elyan glanced sideways, scowling slightly. 'Why would I?'

Gwaine shrugged, feigning carelessness. 'Make him feel welcome, lure him in, win his trust and then get him to spill all of his secrets.' He was half-joking, but they both knew that this idea wasn't far from the truth.

'They say they don't have any secrets.'

Gwaine rolled his eyes. 'Well, they're not going to say anything else, are they?'

Elyan paused in front of the council chamber doors. The corridors had emptied of courtiers now that the chance of catching a glimpse of the king's ill-favoured cousins had passed.

'There's no point in talking to them then, is there?' he said, before opening the door.

Gwaine smirked. Sometimes Elyan was too serious for his own good; it made him impossibly easy to wind up.

He walked through the door after his fellow knight and let it swing closed behind him. Arthur looked up as they entered. He was hunched over the council table, the letter from Gaheris open in front of him. Gwaine wondered if what Ragnelle had said was true: if Gaheris really was dying. He doubted it made a difference either way; dying men could still be dangerous.

'What did they say?' There was something boyish in the way Arthur asked.

'Nothing, Sire,' Elyan replied, as he had done when Gwaine had asked. He exchanged a glance with his sister. Guinevere was sitting down at the council table, and Gaius and Merlin still hovered nearby. The other knights had left, and Tristan was nowhere in sight.

Gwaine thought of Ragnelle; of the way she'd jumped to her brother's defence but stayed silent on the subject of her father.

'Lady Ragnelle didn't defend Agravaine when I mentioned him.' He thought it might be worth mentioning.

Arthur obviously didn't. 'She'd be a fool to do anything else. Ragnelle's not stupid.'

That much was obviously true. Ragnelle may not have been beautiful, but she exuded an air of cautious intelligence that you couldn't help but notice. It was probably part of the reason why she was the one that commanded attention while Galahad did not.

'Did she say anything about the rooms she was given?'

Gwaine couldn't help but think this had been an uncharacteristically underhand move on Arthur's part. He'd likely been talked into putting Ragnelle into Lady Morgana's old rooms by his council.

'She didn't mention it, but I think she got the message.'

Arthur pulled the face he often would when a plan wasn't quite coming together – an expression caught between irritation and exasperation. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. 'This isn't going to work, Ragnelle's too much like Ag... like her father.'

Gaius spoke up, neatly distracting from Arthur's avoidance of his uncle's name. 'They've been here less than a day, Sire. Give them some time to adjust. When they start to feel more comfortable it will be easier to get them to talk.'

'Do you think they have something to hide, Gaius?' There was a hint of uncertainty in Arthur's voice and Gwaine felt a little sorry for him. He'd been betrayed too many times now to dare to trust anyone; even his own family.

As ever, Gaius was giving nothing away. 'It is hard to tell, Sire. It has been many years since Lady Ragnelle was at court, and Galahad has never set foot in Camelot before today.'

Arthur was restless. 'That's suspicious in itself, isn't it? Why didn't they come when my father was sick; when he died? They should have been at my coronation.'

'They weren't invited.' Everyone looked at Merlin, who had been so quiet that Gwaine had almost forgotten he was there. He looked a little cowed to suddenly be the centre of attention, but he stood his ground. 'Don't you remember, Sire? Agravaine said there was no time to bring them to court.'

Gwaine frowned. Although it wasn't obvious, the fact that Merlin had dared to speak out suggested he leaned a little in the cousins' favour. Merlin had always hated to see injustice done, and Gwaine couldn't blame him for that, but he thought he might warn him not to speak too vehemently in Ragnelle and Galahad's defence until they had a better idea of whose side the pair were actually on.

The look on Gaius' face suggested that he was thinking the same thing. 'Merlin is right, Sire. Agravaine was clever; he might not have told his children of his intention at all; to keep them safe.'

'If he'd wanted to keep them safe he wouldn't have betrayed me.' There was a danger in Arthur's words that caused everyone to fall silent. It was the first indication of the danger Ragnelle and Galahad were in. Gwaine could suddenly understand why Merlin had spoken up; he too felt a sudden urge to try and protect Agravaine's unfortunate children.

Guinevere reached out and squeezed Arthur's arm, which seemed to calm him. They looked at each other in that loving way that made Gwaine feel uncomfortable – he couldn't imagine ever looking at someone that way. He thought it odd to rely so much on one person.

'I'll see if I can talk to Lady Ragnelle at the feast tonight. She might feel more comfortable with me.' Guinevere said, ever the voice of reason.

Gwaine suddenly started to feel very redundant in this conversation. He looked sideways and caught Merlin's eye; it seemed he wasn't the only one.

Arthur glanced in their direction. 'You can go, there's no point in wasting a day speculating.'

Gwaine and Merlin shared another look, this time of mild amazement. Arthur very rarely spoke with such reason. Guinevere was working wonders.

They all bowed and turned to leave the king and queen to their loving stares. Elyan swept on ahead, eager to get back to the training ground. There was to be a tournament in a week's time and all of the knights were eager to get as much practice in as possible. Well, all except Gwaine, who had never really seen the point of tourneys. He thought lances should be broken on the battlefield, against your enemy. Not in an arena, where you ran the risk of killing a friend. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to compete.

He fell into step beside Merlin, who was trailing after Gaius. 'Got any plans for the rest of the day?'

Merlin sighed, 'Oh, you know, not much, just washing Arthur's clothes, cleaning his room, polishing his boots, grooming his horse, preparing his dinner. The usual.'

Gwaine clapped Merlin on the shoulder and veered off to the left, towards the front courtyard. 'Have fun with that.'

'You know, you could help!' Merlin called after him.

Gwaine turned and walked backwards a few paces, holding out his arms and shrugging. 'I've things to do. People to see.'

'You're going to the tavern aren't you?'

Gwaine grinned, 'See you later, Merlin,' and then he turned and ran before anyone thought to stop him.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: This chapter has given me all sorts of trouble, but hopefully I've managed to smooth out the rough edges. Arthur has managed to nab himself a little slither of this chapter. There will be a greater variation of character POVs as this story goes on, but for now I'm mostly trying to establish Gwaine and Ragnelle's parts in the story. There's a teeny tiny bit of Shakespeare in there as well, as a hats-off to the brilliant new BBC film of Henry IV: Part 1 that I watched the other day.

Oh yes, and in terms of accuracy, I'm not sure if Merlin's world has yet established any laws of physics, but for the sake of comedy, I'm going to say it has. I apologise for the knights' stupidity in advance. I have no control over them when they're drunk.

**C****hapter 2**

Ragnelle did not feel like feasting. She'd woken from an overlong nap feeling sick and weary, and with less than enough time to get ready for the banquet. What small hope she'd had of making herself look something more than ordinary had faded along with the evening sunlight, and she noted that no one had been sent to help her dress. A bath had been drawn, but whoever had brought it to the room had not thought to wake her while it was still hot, so now, as she slipped out of her riding clothes and into the tub, the water was little more than lukewarm.

Hastily, she rubbed the dirt and smell of horse from her skin, and when she was clean enough and could stand the dank water no longer, she towelled herself off and brushed out her hair. It wouldn't dry in time for the banquet, but she usually wore it plaited anyway. She'd had the foresight to pack her own belongings and so it only took a moment for her to find the dress she meant to wear; russet velvet and gold lacing. It was beautiful enough to suit the occasion, but there was nothing about it that would upstage Guinevere, or any of the other ladies who attended the feast. Ragnelle doubted she was capable of upstaging anyone, regardless of what dress she wore, but she knew tonight was important. She needed to look unintimidating; like she would never belong on a throne.

She slipped the gown on over her head and pulled the laces at the side tight. It was strange to feel silk and velvet against skin after she'd spent so long wearing only cotton and wool.

It didn't take her long to plait her hair, and when she was done she wound it into a coil at the nape of her neck and pinned it in place. She tried to pinch some colour into her cheeks, but quickly regretted doing so, as the pleasant blush she'd intended to create instead looked more like an embarrassed flush. She glared at her reflection, resigned to the fact that she'd have to do as she was. If she had been beautiful, people might have forgiven her for looking like her father. Instead, she'd just have to hope that Arthur wouldn't hate her for so petty a crime.

As she stepped into a pair of soft leather shoes there was a knock at the door.

'Come in!'

The door cracked open and a young man peered inside. He smiled at her awkwardly. 'I'm here to escort you to the throne room, my Lady.'

Ragnelle considered him for a moment. His clothing marked him as a servant, but she recognised him from earlier when he'd stood by Gaius' side in the council chamber.

'And you are?' She wanted a name to put to the face.

'Merlin.' He stepped into the room and closed the door. Ragnelle wasn't certain what to make of the action; she might have felt threatened, had he not seemed so completely unthreatening. She noted that he'd dropped the 'lady' at the end of his speech.

'Merlin.' She liked the name, but behind his smile she could see his doubt; he suspected her as well. 'I know the way, thank you, Merlin.' She turned away, dismissing him, but in the mirror she saw him take a step forward.

'Arthur wanted...'

'I'm sorry?' She turned back.

Merlin shut his mouth quickly, realising his mistake a second after Ragnelle had done. He was quick to recover, but they both knew it was too late.

'The King wanted me to escort you.'

Ragnelle pressed her teeth together and told herself to take it like a lady. 'Very well,' she said, smart enough to know that arguing would not help her. 'Let me have a moment.'

'Of course,' Merlin stepped further into the room when most servants would have lingered by the door. Ragnelle decided he was one to watch out for.

She picked a gold necklace up off the dressing table and fastened it around her neck. She'd had to buy it especially for the occasion, because the little jewellery she owned was too tarnished to be worn. The clasp caught in her hair and she winced.

Merlin caught her eye in the mirror. 'I can do that, if you want.'

He came closer and she dropped her hands away from her neck so that he could see. He reached out and started to untangle the loose strands of hair from the necklace. In a moment, she was free again.

She took a minute to pin the loosed strands back into her plait. 'Thank you.'

Merlin shrugged. 'It's fine.'

She wanted to like him, but she knew better than to make alliances too quickly. He was close to Arthur, that much was apparent, and that made him dangerous.

'I'm ready.' She turned from the mirror and led the way out of the room. Merlin pulled the door shut behind him and then fell into step beside her. Really he should have been two steps ahead if he was leading her, or two steps behind if he was following, but clearly he was used to being treated as an equal. She wasn't sure what this told her about Arthur.

'Is my brother being escorted as well?' Ragnelle glanced down the corridor where she'd left Galahad earlier.

'Leon's bringing him.'

It seemed Galahad was deemed enough of a threat to be worthy of an armed escort. Ragnelle was suddenly thankful that Merlin had been sent for her; he might be able to pry and eavesdrop, but at least he couldn't run her through at a moment's notice.

They reached the throne room and Merlin made to push the doors open.

Ragnelle's chest tightened. 'Aren't we waiting?' She had assumed that she and Galahad would swear the oath together. When Merlin looked at her, she knew that he knew that was what she'd been expecting as well. It seemed she'd been right not to trust him, but he had the decency to look ashamed at least.

Merlin pushed the doors open and then stepped back, so that she could enter first. Swallowing her shock, Ragnelle stepped forward into the sea of stares that would follow her from the door to the foot of the thrones. As she walked, she heard the whispers rise about her like a wave. She wished she could silence them with looks alone, but she knew she'd have to rely on her words. She could feel Merlin's steady presence two paces behind her; it seemed he knew when to fall into place. Ragnelle was surprised to be thankful for his shadow at her heel.

Arthur and Guinevere looked like characters from a fairytale; a noble king and his beautiful queen. Had Ragnelle been able to concentrate on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other, she might have looked to see if Arthur seemed at all nervous beneath his new crown, or if Guinevere appeared uncomfortable in her new place before the court. In that moment, however, it didn't occur to her that anyone but she might have felt the pressure of a hundred eyes upon them.

She reached the steps that led up the thrones and knelt on the lowest one. She knew what to do – Gaheris had been making them prepare for this ever since their father had died. Arthur looked down at her and did his best to keep his face neutral, but his stare, which she thought was meant to be cold, was filled with uncertainty. Ragnelle averted her gaze; this was her father's fault, not hers. She wouldn't feel guilt for a hurt she hadn't inflicted.

Geoffrey of Monmouth stepped towards her, scroll in hand, and Ragnelle turned her gaze forward. She waited.

'Ragnelle de Bois, you come to swear allegiance to the rightful King of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon, and his queen, the Lady Guinevere.'

Ragnelle pursed her lips, and wondered at what stage Guinevere had become a lady.

The master of ceremonies took a breath. 'You are also here to condemn publicly the treasons committed by your father, Agravaine de Bois, and to renounce any claim you may have to the throne of Camelot.'

She'd expected that, although in terms of legality such an oath was meaningless. She had no claim to the throne; Arthur's royal blood came from Uther, not Ygraine. During the last two years, however, Arthur had named her father as Lord Protector of the kingdom half a dozen times; Lord Protector and Heir Apparent. Arthur knew that it wasn't blood that made a king; it was loyalty. Making his cousins give up their imagined claim would serve as a reminder to his enemies that their allegiance was worth nothing.

From under her eyelashes she could see Arthur staring at her, and Guinevere staring at him. The Queen looked troubled. Ragnelle wondered if she realised that once the oath was sworn, she would be the only person capable of giving Camelot the heir it needed. Without a child of his own, and with his cousins dispossessed, there was only one other claimant to the throne, and she would never bend the knee.

'Do you, Ragnelle de Bois, swear to serve and obey your king, Arthur Pendragon, with honour and with courage, until your life's end?'

'I do so swear.'

'And do you swear to serve his wife, Queen Guinevere, for now and forevermore, until your life's end?'

Ragnelle thought of the blacksmith's daughter; of the maid who had served Morgana for so many years. She took a breath. 'I do so swear.'

'Do you condemn the crimes of you father, Agravaine de Bois, and swear that you will never commit any such acts of treachery against the kingdom of Camelot, for as long as you live?'

When Ragnelle thought of her father it hurt. 'I do.'

'And do you promise not to take up any claim that you may have to the throne of Camelot through the blood of your father's sister, Ygraine, and to serve the heir of the house of Pendragon for as long as you shall live?'

What heir? Ragnelle thought, but it did not matter. If Arthur wanted her submission, he would get it; wholly and willingly. Ragnelle did not want to die for a hollow crown.

'I do so promise and swear.' She looked straight at Arthur when she said it. He at least had the courage not to look away.

'Lady Ragnelle, you may rise.'

Her legs felt weak when she stood. She stepped back off the stairs and curtsied low before the thrones. Behind her the hall whispered.

Geoffrey of Monmouth indicated that she should step back. A space had been made for her beside the knights. She fell into line beside Sir Gwaine, who kept his eyes forward and did a very good job of ignoring her. She heard the doors open again.

They'd placed her well. When Galahad knelt on the steps before the throne, she was directly behind him, so there was no way for him to look to her for support. He swore the first two oaths without hesitation, but on the third he stuttered. Her stomach was churning and she began to chew her lips.

As the fourth oath was spoken she felt a light touch on her elbow.

'Relax.' Gwaine muttered. Was it a warning, or advice?

She released her held breath and her muscles became less tense. When she did this she seemed to shrink; she felt as though she was disappearing, but perhaps that would not be such a bad thing. She stared at Galahad's back as Geoffrey finished speaking the forth oath. Her brother hesitated. Her breath caught. She thought she saw Galahad's head turn slightly sideways. Was he looking for her? Ragnelle's arm twitched involuntarily and Gwaine's hand closed around her elbow: a warning. She waited.

'I do so promise and swear.' Galahad managed to say it without stuttering.

'Lord Galahad, you may rise.'

Galahad stood, stiff-backed, and bowed before the thrones. Ragnelle heard the titters of the courtiers behind her. Arthur was frowning, but Guinevere reached out and touched his hand and Ragnelle saw that when he looked at her she shook her head, just a fraction. She was warning him, as Gwaine had warned Ragnelle.

Arthur looked forward again, indignant but sated. 'Let us go and celebrate these oaths of allegiance, and toast the arrival of my faithful cousins.' He sounded uncomfortable speaking so formally.

The court bowed as one as he rose and led the way from the throne room to the Great Hall, Guinevere at his side. It was only as they passed that Ragnelle realised Gwaine was still holding her arm. She looked at him, and it took him a moment to realise the same. He let go. She didn't have time to think on it: Galahad was waiting and she stepped up beside him and followed the King and Queen from the the throne room, with the knights at their back. She only dared to look at her brother once they had stepped through the doors and were sheltered, for a just a moment, from the prying eyes of the court.

Galahad looked angry and upset. Ragnelle wondered if she looked the same; she didn't think so. For her, the oath was a relief. It might not prove her innocence, but it would help. Galahad had always felt injustice more keenly than she had, however.

'Don't let it get to you,' she muttered under her breath as the doors to the Great Hall swung open before them. He gave no indication that he'd heard. They parted again as they took their seats; she beside Guinevere and Galahad beside Arthur. They were honoured guests tonight, but Ragnelle understood now just how close they were to being prisoners.

XXX

The feast was starting to descend into the kind of chaos that came with a dozen barrels of ale. The knights had set up a wager that even Gwaine had to admit was more than a little bit stupid, and Percival was currently attempting to lift a chair above his head, whilst Elyan weighed it down with a cauldron full of water in his arms. Gwaine had wagered that Elyan would drop the cauldron before Percival dropped him. Leon disagreed. The bet currently stood at five pieces of silver and the morning watch.

Percival hefted the chair onto his shoulder.

'Whose idea was this?' Merlin appeared beside Gwaine. He looked flustered and mildly irritated.

'I'm going to say it was Elyan's,' Gwaine replied.

Merlin gave him one of those all-knowing looks that made him look about eighty. 'It was yours, wasn't it?'

Gwaine did his best to look innocent, although he doubted it convinced anyone. 'Someone's got to liven up the party.'

Merlin scowled. 'Well, I'm not cleaning it up when Percival drops him.'

'That's the beauty of it, Merlin; Percival isn't going to drop him.' Gwaine took two cups of ale from the tray of a passing serving girl and gave one to Merlin. 'The man is a miracle.'

'A miracle. Right.'

They watched together as Percival hefted the chair into the air and Elyan slopped half of the water onto the floor.

'Ha!' Gwaine pointed at Leon. 'You see?'

Leon shook his head. 'Not so fast. You said he'd drop the cauldron, not the water.'

Gwaine kicked himself for betting against someone as smart and as sober as Leon.

'Gwaine, what happened with Ragnelle earlier?'

Gwaine half-turned his head towards Merlin, but he kept his eyes on Percival, who was looking a little unsteady on his feet. 'Hmmm?'

'Earlier, in the throne room, when Galahad was swearing his oath?'

Distracted, Gwaine turned to look at Merlin. 'What about it?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Nothing, I just thought you said something to her.'

'Did I?' Gwaine turned back to Percival's battle with the rules of physics. He was reluctant to talk about that moment in the throne room. He wasn't sure what had happened, or why it had happened. It just had.

'I thought you did. I don't know, maybe you didn't.' Merlin was doing that thing when he pretended that he didn't know better.

Gwaine shrugged. 'She looked like she needed reassuring.'

'Oh, right...Did it work?'

'I doubt it. Her parents are dead, her eldest brother's dying and Arthur thinks she's a traitor. What does the kindness of a stranger count for among all that? Come on, Percival!'

Merlin looked a little overwhelmed. 'How do you know all that?'

Gwaine frowned. 'She told me.' Until now, it hadn't occurred to him how odd that burst of honesty on her part had been.

Quite suddenly, Percival, Elyan and the cauldron full of water went crashing to the floor. A woman shrieked on the other side of the Great Hall, and Gwaine forgot about Ragnelle and her troubles.

'You owe me five silvers!' He hollered at Leon.

Leon scowled. 'But I won.'

Gwaine swallowed what was left of his ale and passed the empty cup to Merlin. He was done with the serious chat now; he had a debt to collect.

XXX

Gwaine collapsed into a chair at Arthur's side and stretched his legs out underneath the high table. 'Arthur, I need you to get my money off of Leon.' He flicked his hair out of his eyes and offered the King his most charming smile.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. 'Gwaine, if you call me by my name in public again, I will have you locked in the dungeons for a week, without food.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'I can live with that.'

Arthur tilted his head thoughtfully. 'Or ale.'

Gwaine smirked. 'Forgive me, your majesty.'

Arthur glanced sideways to where Ragnelle was sitting, and then over to where the other knights were still arguing about who was going to clean up the mess they'd made. 'Why does Leon owe you money?' He wasn't really interested in debt collecting at this moment, but it was a welcome distraction from Ragnelle's presence.

'He lost the bet. The cauldron fell before Percival did.'

Arthur narrowed his eyes. 'I don't know. I would have said they fell at the same time.'

'No, the cauldron definitely fell first. Percival said it did.'

'Well, he would, wouldn't he?' Arthur was surprised to find himself smiling. Gwaine had that affect on people. He was at once impossibly irritating and unavoidably endearing. He took a swig of his wine and then picked up a jug and offered it to Gwaine, who accepted graciously. 'What does Elyan say?'

'I wouldn't trust anything Elyan says, he's very drunk.' Gwaine gulped down a full mug of wine and then poured a refill.

'And you're stone cold sober.' Arthur raised his goblet and Gwaine knocked his own against it.

'I'm just saying, the cauldron definitely fell first.'

Arthur sat back in his chair and contemplated the argument for a moment. Leon did seem to win the majority of the bets he made, but Arthur was inclined to put that down to common sense rather than dishonesty. Still, it didn't do a man any good to win all the time. 'Very well, what was the wager?'

'Five pieces of silver, and the morning watch.'

Arthur rolled his eyes. 'Gwaine, you aren't allowed to gamble your watches.'

'Why not?' Gwaine looked flabbergasted.

'Because whilst you're arguing about who's won and who's lost, Camelot might fall down around your ankles.'

Gwaine frowned and seemed to think about this for a moment. 'I think I'd notice before it was around my ankles.'

Arthur sighed. 'You get the silver, but your watches stay as they are.'

Gwaine huffed and then put his half-empty mug of wine back on the table. 'I'll stop drinking now then.'

Arthur smirked. 'That's probably a good idea.'

He was distracted for a moment as Ragnelle stood to leave. She hesitated, and then turned towards him and curtsied. 'Your Majesty.'

Arthur's smile fell. He nodded in return, and then she turned away and began to make her way towards the doors. He put his goblet back down on the table. 'Do you think she was telling the truth?' he asked Gwaine, who was likely too drunk to think on such things right now.

'About what?'

Arthur drew breath. The thought of his cousins made him uneasy. He couldn't bring himself the trust them, despite their oaths. Sometimes, he still found it difficult to trust Guinevere entirely. 'Do you think she and her brothers really knew nothing of Agravaine's plot?'

Gwaine flicked his hair out of his eyes and watched Ragnelle weave her way through the crowd. 'It's hard to tell.'

Arthur pressed his hand to his mouth. It seemed it was always hard to tell.

'She seems honest though.'

He looked at Gwaine, surprised. Gwaine shrugged. 'When I spoke to her earlier she seemed honest enough.'

Arthur's jaw clenched. 'So did her father.' He reached again for his drink and swallowed what was left in the goblet. Across the hall, Ragnelle had found Galahad and was trying to talk to him, but her brother didn't seem to want to listen. After a short while he said something to Ragnelle which Arthur guessed wasn't very polite and stomped away. Ragnelle looked after him, pale-faced, and then turned and left the hall.

Arthur's stomach dropped and he stood up, almost involuntarily. 'Gwaine, go after her. Find out what they were arguing about.'

Gwaine managed to stand without swaying and offered a shallow bow. 'Sire,' and then he was gone, tracing Ragnelle's footsteps through the crowd.

Arthur wondered if he was being ridiculous, or unfair, but then he remembered the city burning and the hatred in Agravaine's eyes, and he forgot how much it must hurt to be doubted. He was sure that it hurt more to be betrayed.

XXX

Gwaine quick-stepped through the crowd after the king's cousin, and did his best to blink away the tilt in his vision. He needed to be clear headed now; for Arthur's sake. And perhaps for Ragnelle's as well. On his way to the door he passed the sprawling puddle that he was probably partly responsible for. Leon was nobly trying to help Merlin to clean it up.

'Arthur says the watches have to stay the same, but the silver's mine!'

Leon looked scandalised. 'The cauldron only fell when Percival did!'

Gwaine turned as he walked. 'I hope you're not questioning King Arthur's judgement. You can pay me tomorrow!' He made a hasty exit before Leon could argue any further.

Ragnelle wasn't in sight when he left the Great Hall, but it didn't take him long to find her. She was on her way back to Morgana's old chambers. It only took him a few long strides to catch up with her.

'My lady.'

'What do you want?' It seemed she'd finally tired of common courtesy. Gwaine decided he wouldn't take it personally.

'The king asked me to escort you to your chambers.'

She stopped suddenly and Gwaine was two paces ahead of her before he managed to stop himself.

'Why?'

'Err...' The abrupt halt had caused Gwaine's world to tip a bit to the left. He tried to ignore that and focus on Ragnelle's face, but it wasn't easy. 'Why not?'

'Because I know the way. I don't need to be escorted everywhere.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'Arthur disagrees.'

Ragnelle didn't seem too pleased with that explanation. 'Why? Is it not enough that I knelt before the entire court and swore allegiance to him? Does that not prove my loyalty?' There was a fire in her eyes that he hadn't noticed before; kindled by anger and fear and the kind of courage that made a person say things they knew they shouldn't. Gwaine had fallen foul of that kind of courage more than once himself.

'No,' he said, because she was obviously too clever to fool with kindness, and too angry to believe anything but the truth. 'It doesn't.'

She pressed her lips together and stared at him a moment longer, before looking away and walking on past him. Gwaine swayed slightly as he attempted to follow her. He'd definitely had more to drink than he'd thought.

'You're a strange one, Gwaine.'

Gwaine frowned. 'How so?'

'You don't act like a knight.'

He wasn't sure if that was meant as an insult or not. 'What do I act like?'

'A fool.'

'Ouch.'

They'd reached her chambers and she opened her door and went to step through it without bidding him good night. Gwaine caught her by the elbow, as he had done when her brother gave up his claim to the throne.

'What is it that makes me a fool?'

She fixed him with that dark, steady gaze she'd inherited from her father, but in some way it was different: it was less calculating. 'You're being very kind to me. That in itself is foolish. It's like you said: our word is worth nothing. We're the enemy.'

'Are you?'

There was doubt in her eyes. 'Everyone thinks so. Every time they look at me, they see my father.'

'I look like my sister. I hope that doesn't mean I'm anything like her.' They stared at each other in silence for a time. Gwaine still felt slightly drunk and he let go of Ragnelle's arm to brace himself against the doorframe.

She wasn't very beautiful. It was a thought that had occurred to him when he'd first seen her coming up the steps into Camelot. She had a round, pale face and dark eyes that you didn't really notice accept when she was angry. He wondered what she'd look like with her hair down. Then he wondered why he'd wondered that at all.

Gwaine decided that he was looking a little too closely.

'What did you argue with Galahad about?' He cut straight to the point.

'Why would you care about that?' Ragnelle was on guard again.

'I suppose because the King thinks you're a traitor and that you were arguing about some kind of plot to overthrow him.' He pulled a face after he'd said that, because he knew he definitely shouldn't have.

Ragnelle laughed. He noticed her eyes when she did that as well.

'Well, if we were talking treason I wouldn't tell you.'

Gwaine shrugged. 'Arthur's not very good at subtlety.'

Ragnelle raised an eyebrow. 'Arthur isn't? You're the one interrogating me.'

'Well, if Arthur had known how to be subtle, he wouldn't have sent me, would he?'

Ragnelle was smiling, but after a moment the expression changed; became stiffer. She hadn't meant to let her guard down.

Gwaine breathed deep. He was starting to sober up. 'So, what were you and Galahad arguing about?'

She hesitated, and Gwaine somehow knew that whatever she said next, it wouldn't be the whole truth.

'He's still upset about our father. People seem to have forgotten that he was that to us before he was ever a traitor. We can't help that we loved him.'

Gwaine's jaw clenched. He'd wanted to trust her, but just then he'd seen the part of Agravaine in her that he'd missed before; the part that didn't need lies to hide the truth.

'I'm sorry you didn't have a better father.' He saw in Ragnelle's face then that she knew he didn't believe her. She might have looked sorry – maybe even a little guilty – but he wasn't willing to trust anything he saw in her anymore.

Gwaine stood up straighter and stepped away from her. 'You must be tired. I won't keep you any longer.' He didn't bow. 'Goodnight, my lady.' He turned and walked away without waiting for her to reply, and for some reason he regretted it, even though she hadn't been wholly honest.

He told himself that she was right: he was a fool to be kind to her. It didn't work.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: I did mean to have this chapter up at the end of last week, but a moment of stupidity on my part left me locked out of my house for the weekend, so I apologise for the delay!

There's a few more character perspectives in this one, so hopefully the story will start to broaden out from here on in. There's less Gwaine than I'd intended, but he's still suffering from the night before, so he wasn't feeling up to much storytelling. He'll be back next chapter, so no need to worry.

Big thanks to all my reviewers and followers so far - you have no idea how much I appreciate your support!

**Chapter 3**

Ragnelle dreamt of falling and woke with a start before dawn. She quickly gave up on the hope of finding sleep again and rolled out of bed, her toes curling when they touched the cold stone floor. She walked over to the window and opened the shutters. Condensation clung to the glass panes and outside it was still dark.

She pushed the shutters closed again and crossed back to the foot of the bed, where her travelling bags remained packed. It seemed no one was going to wait on her here, but she could live with that; at least it meant she'd be left alone. She knelt down and unbuckled one of the bags, emptying the contents onto the bed: they were the best dresses she owned, but all save two were made of soft wool or cotton. In the north there was little point in making dresses from anything else, as it was too cold to put fashion before practicality. The russet gown she'd worn last night was a rare luxury. She could have had a hundred made if she'd wanted them, but she saw no reason to waste money on silks and velvets that no one but she would ever see. Amidst the pile of muted blues, greens, browns and greys, one dress shone: a cloth of gold gown her father had had made for her. She'd never worn it; it had been meant for Gaheris' knighting ceremony, but that had never come to pass, and the dress had stayed folded between sheets of silk for almost eight years. She had brought it with her because she could think of no better place for it than at court; this was where it had been made for. She had no delusions that she would ever wear it though; cloth of gold spoke of royalty, and she was nothing close anymore.

Eventually she dressed in a soft, blue cotton dress and brown suede coat. She left the golden gown on the bed.

Her stomach was empty but she didn't bother to find herself any food. She would come back to the castle for breakfast. The only people she passed in the hallways and the courtyard were servants, or guards coming to the end of their night watch. Some eyed her suspiciously as she passed and others offered tiny bows or curtsies. A handful diverted their gaze and ignored her completely.

She found her way to the castle courtyard easily enough, but when she reached the walls she hesitated. She'd climbed these steps seven years before. Then, it had been raining, and the sky had been the colour of pitch, rather than the paling blue it was now. She felt dizzy suddenly, and had to press her hand against the wall to steady herself.

'Can I help you, my Lady?' The voice came from above her. She looked up and saw Sir Leon at the top of the steps, coming her way.

'I'm fine, thank you.' She swallowed and straightened up, but her skin felt clammy and cold.

Leon was quick to descend. 'Was your room uncomfortable?' He sounded concerned.

Ragnelle remembered Leon from when she was a king's niece and he was nothing but a second son in training. He'd always been kinder to her than the others; kind, and caring, and unshakably loyal. He was Arthur's man now; she would do well to remember that.

She forced forward a smile. 'No, it was fine, I just woke early.'

Leon nodded, and then waited. She wondered why, but then realised that he wanted an explanation as to why she was here.

She could think of none.

He glanced back up the steps and then looked at Ragnelle again. 'Did you want to see the city from the wall?'

She nodded, thankful for the offered excuse. 'It's been a long time since I was here last.'

'Of course, I'll come and show you if you like.' He turned and began to climb back up the steps. Ragnelle had little choice but to follow, although the thought of being up there made her feel sick.

Leon waited for her at the top and they stepped up to the ramparts together. The world seemed to tilt and Ragnelle gripped tightly to the stone to stop herself from swaying.

'It's still quite dark, so there's not a great deal to see.'

Ragnelle's vision had gone blurry. She blinked, and swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. Leon was peering out across the city, but she could do nothing except try not to focus on the ground. It was a very long way down.

It took Leon a moment to notice her discomposure. 'Are you alright, my Lady?' he asked at last.

Ragnelle turned away from the fall. 'Actually, the height is making me feel dizzy.' It was only half a lie. 'I think I'd better go back down.'

Leon was immediately beside her, supporting her back down the steps. When they reached the bottom he waited for her to catch her breath. 'Are you feeling better, my Lady?'

Her fingers were trembling. 'Yes, thank you. I think I'll go back to my room.'

'Allow me to escort you.' Leon really was the perfect knight, but Ragnelle wasn't sure how much longer she was going to be able to keep the feeble conversation going.

'Thank you, but I'll be fine. You must have somewhere to be.'

'Actually, my watch just ended, so I'm going that same way as you.' Leon was simply too good to be true. Thankfully, Ragnelle was saved from his chivalry by Arthur's manservant, who was coming across the courtyard with heavy feet and dark circles around his eyes.

Leon was momentarily distracted. 'Merlin, you look even worse than I feel.'

Merlin looked miserable. 'Arthur had me up half the night polishing his armour for the tournament. And I promised Gaius I'd go to the forest this morning to get him some supplies.' He offered Ragnelle a tiny smile when he saw her. 'Morning, my Lady.'

'You're a better man than me. I'm off to bed, once I've escorted Lady Ragnelle back to her chambers.'

Ragnelle saw her chance and took it. 'Would you mind if I went to the forest with you?' Merlin, she thought she could deal with. He at least looked as though he wasn't going to be up to much conversation.

Leon and Merlin exchanged an uncertain look.

'I just, I used to go there before with Arthur and Mor... We went there when we were children.' She pressed her mouth closed, because the slip had been obvious and had done nothing to ease the pair's doubts.

'I don't know if that's a good idea.' Merlin stuttered over his words. 'I mean, it's early and people might wonder where you are. Arthur might wonder.'

Ragnelle closed her eyes and her breath escaped in a puff that might have been a laugh. She may have been an honoured guest last night, but this morning it seemed she was a guest who was not allowed outside the castle walls. 'That's fine, it was a silly idea.'

'It's not.'

She opened her eyes. Merlin seemed to have spoken without meaning to. Leon was giving him a slightly odd look.

Sheepishly, he continued. 'It's not a silly idea.' He was looking at her with an awkward kind of understanding. 'Leon, if Lady Ragnelle came with me, you could let the palace know. We'd be back before breakfast was even served. She wouldn't be missed.'

Ragnelle wasn't sure what to make of such a kindness.

Leon hesitated, but he looked very tired and didn't seem able to think straight. 'I, yes, I can do that. If you're sure you can take care of...both of you.' The way he stumbled not to insult her was almost endearing.

'We'll be safe enough.' Merlin gave him a knowing smile that Leon didn't seem to really understand.

'Alright, I'll let the guards know. My Lady.' Leon bowed and then turned and made his way towards the castle, leaving Ragnelle alone with Merlin.

She looked at Arthur's servant and he smiled back tentatively.

'Shall we?' He indicated the gate that led out into the city.

They walked together into the streets beyond the castle courtyard. The sun hadn't quite risen over the horizon and the roads were still bathed in the cold, blue light of morning. Only the bakers had woken and the smell of fresh bread wafted from one or two shop fronts as they passed. When they reached the outer limits of the city, just before they passed beyond the walls, Merlin bought a loaf and broke it in half.

'Here.' He offered her the bigger half.

She took the smaller one. 'Thank you.' The bread was so fresh that it melted on her tongue. It was the best thing she'd tasted since she'd come back.

XXX

Gwaine was late for the morning watch. He'd fallen out of bed just as the sun appeared over the walls of Camelot, and dressed in a cascade of curses and crumpled fabric.

When he was supposed to be up on the wall beginning his watch, he was still searching his room for his cloak, which he eventually found screwed up under the bed, soaked with red wine. Now he was running cloakless through the castle, his sword clutched in one hand and a slice of toast stolen from a passing breakfast platter in the other. He rounded a corner and nearly ran headlong into Leon.

'Aha!' He sprayed a few crumbs into Leon's face and his fellow knight flinched backwards. 'I need your cloak.'

Leon raised an eyebrow. 'What happened to yours?'

Gwaine swallowed his mouthful of toast. 'Wine.'

Leon raised an eyebrow. 'Alright, what's it worth?'

Gwaine blinked at Leon as though he'd gone mad. 'What?'

'What's my cloak worth to you?' Leon had that sneaky look about him that he usually hid so well.

Gwaine squinted at him. His head ached and his stomach was still roiling, despite the stolen breakfast. 'You're going to make me pay you?' He couldn't believe Leon's cruelty.

'I'm not going to make you. You could just go out there without a cloak and explain to Arthur that you had an accident.'

Gwaine considered the situation for a moment. 'How much?'

'How about five silver pieces?'

Gwaine remembered the night before; the bet and the debt owed to him. Leon really was cruel, but right now he didn't think he was up for the argument. 'Fine.'

Leon grinned and unfastened his cloak. 'I'll collect the money at noon.'

'Right.' Gwaine snatched the red cloth from Leon's grasp and turned away. He was almost outside when Leon called back to him.

'Lady Ragnelle went to the forest with Merlin. If you could tell the King, that would be great.'

Gwaine turned and shouted after Leon's retreating back. 'You're joking, right?'

XXX

Merlin was going to be polishing boots for a week; he was sure of it. When Arthur found out about his and Ragnelle's trip to the forest there would be Hell to pay. But he knew what it was to feel like a prisoner, and he didn't think it would do any real harm to take her for a walk in the forest, even if it did rile the King. He might even be able to get her to talk.

He swallowed a mouthful of bread. 'So, are you glad to be back in Camelot?'

Ragnelle didn't look at him when she answered. 'Of course, Camelot was my home once.' Her voice was steady and void of emotion; Merlin could tell she was lying.

She began to walk a little faster as they reached the hill that climbed up into the forest.

'You must be pleased to see Arthur again. How long has it been since you last saw each other?' Merlin struggled to keep up with her. She may not have been the most graceful of ladies, but she was certainly quick on her feet.

'Seven years.' Ragnelle glanced back at him as he staggered up the hill, weighed down by the bags of empty jars and medicine pouches Gaius had given him to fill. She stopped before she reached the forest to wait for him.

'Seven years,' he was a little out of breath when he reached her, 'That's a long time.'

'Would you like me to carry something?'

Merlin shook his head. 'No, it's fine, I've got it.'

Ragnelle paused for a moment and then turned back towards the forest. They entered the shade beneath the trees together. The first beams of early morning sunlight peaked through the canopy of leaves above them and dappled the ground in pale yellow light.

'Why did you leave?'

Ragnelle glanced sideways at him and he got the feeling he'd asked the wrong question.

She looked away. 'My mother died.'

Merlin pressed his mouth closed. Stupid. Why did he always say something stupid? He hefted his bag further onto his shoulder and diverted his gaze. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's alright.' Ragnelle stepped over a fallen log in their path and Merlin followed after her. He could feel curiosity clawing at his chest.

'How did she die?'

Ragnelle's steps faltered for a moment. 'She fell...from the castle walls.'

Sometimes Merlin hated his own curiosity. 'That's awful.'

'Yes, it was.'

They walked for a while in silence. The day grew brighter; beams of sunlight tumbled through the leaves and bathed their boots in pale light.

'This way.' Merlin led Ragnelle off the path and down to the edge of the lake. The water was still dark; the sun had only just crested the tops of the hills and had yet to reach this far. Merlin gazed out across the surface of the lake and thought of Freya. It still hurt, even though he knew she was still out there, beneath the darkened water. He thought it must be the same for Ragnelle when she was trapped behind the walls her mother had fallen from.

'What are we gathering?'

They'd reached the water's edge and Ragnelle was looking at him expectantly. Merlin set down his pack. 'Gaius has run out of pennywort, so you gather some of that. Or I can get that if you don't want to get wet, and you could get something else.'

'I'll get the pennywort.' Ragnelle was already slipping off her shoes and coat.

'It's the stuff with the rounded leaves, over there.'

'I know. I used to do this with Gaius.' She tied her skirt into a knot above her knees and waded into the shallows of the lake.

Merlin was surprised. 'You were Gaius' apprentice?'

'Not really, I think he just felt sorry for me.' Ragnelle had rolled her sleeves up and dipped her hand into the water to uproot some pennywort.

Merlin crouched down a few feet away to gather some yarrow. 'Why would he feel sorry for you?'

Ragnelle smiled down at the water. 'I didn't have many friends when I was growing up.'

Merlin frowned. 'You were friends with Arthur, weren't you? And Morgana?'

Ragnelle looked up at him suddenly. Merlin wondered what he'd said to surprise her, and then he realised that Morgana's name wasn't freely spoken around Camelot these days.

He cleared his throat. 'It's just...she was my friend too. Once.'

Ragnelle nodded, and then looked back down at the water. She ripped up a clump of pennywort. 'Morgana and I used to be friends. Arthur was another matter.'

'He was unkind to you?' Merlin still remembered what Arthur had been like when they'd first met.

Ragnelle's lips tilted into a mirthless smile. 'He ignored me, for the most part.'

'I'm sure things will be different now. He's changed.'

Ragnelle huffed out a breath of disbelief and waded back to shore. The knot in her skirt had come undone and the hem was wet. 'He doesn't seem much different, although I'll concede he pays me more attention now.'

Merlin stopped gathering yarrow for a moment and studied her. 'You're not the way I expected you to be,' he said at last.

Ragnelle only glanced at him. She was crouched down, drying off the pennywort she'd picked. 'What did you expect?'

'I thought you'd be,' Merlin stopped. He wasn't sure that telling her he'd expected the sly, conniving shadow of her traitorous father was a good idea. Instead he just said, 'I wasn't expecting you to help me pick weeds.'

'Why not?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Because you're of noble blood.'

'And you think because my aunt married a king I have servants for my every need?'

'Arthur does,' Merlin muttered beneath his breath.

'We're not all as lucky as Arthur.' Ragnelle sounded bitter.

Merlin looked up at her, surprised, and he saw how suddenly she changed. One moment she'd been almost relaxed; still guarded, but he'd got her talking. Then, a moment after she realised how close she'd come to criticising the King, she stiffened and doubt filled her eyes.

'You don't have any reason to be afraid of me, my Lady.'

She looked at him, eyes still clouded with uncertainty. 'Who says I'm afraid of you?'

'Nobody.' He looked away quickly, thinking he'd gone too far. For a moment he'd forgotten himself; forgotten that in her eyes, he had no right to speak to her as an equal. 'It's just...you seem afraid.'

There was a moment's silence. Merlin started to pick the flowers of off his fistful of yarrow.

'I thought I was hiding it better,' Ragnelle said at last.

'I've seen worse actors.'

'Was my father one of them?'

It astounded Merlin how matter-of-fact Ragnelle was about Agravaine's treachery. He'd expected her to defend her father's actions, but instead she condemned them openly; not just before him, but before the entire court.

He tried to smile, but it didn't work. 'No, he was a very good actor.'

She nodded, and then looked away, and suddenly Merlin wanted to reassure her.'I know Arthur; I've served him for years. He won't harm you if you've done nothing wrong. He isn't like...' No, he was surely going too far if he said that.

'He isn't like Uther,' Ragnelle finished for him. When he dared to return her gaze she looked far less angry than he'd expected. 'Don't worry, Merlin, I can't hurt you. Arthur trusts you far more than he trusts me.'

He knew the risk, but he took it anyway. It wasn't in him to fear friendship. 'Then perhaps we can be friends. You can trust me, and I can trust Arthur, and maybe one day he'll trust you.'

Ragnelle smiled. 'Do servants always befriend their masters in Camelot?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Sometimes they even marry them.'

XXX

Tristan felt safer in the woods. Here, he didn't have to keep up appearances like he did at court. Here he could grieve without being thought weak. He did not think he would ever stop grieving. It had only been a few months since Isolde's death, but the pain was still so raw that he couldn't believe it would ever heal. It was worse than when his father had died; worse than when his wife had left him.

He'd burnt Isolde's body and cast her ashes into the wind, because the thought of her lying cold beneath the ground was unbearable. He'd left Camelot a hundred times, with the intention of never returning. It was within those castle walls that Isolde had been taken from him, and the memory was too hard to bear. Yet there was nowhere he could run where he did not think of her; where the memory did not remain. And so he'd returned, time and again, and now he'd stopped trying to leave at all. His old trades seemed hollow without Isolde by his side, so all he could think to do now was fight for the man she'd died to protect. Arthur had offered him knighthood, but the thought had been almost comical. Tristan was not a knight: at his best he'd been a smuggler, at his worst he'd been a sellsword. He supposed that's what he was now – fighting for a king who he'd sworn no oath to – but at least this was a good king. A king worth fighting for.

Without meaning to, he'd wondered away from the forest path, towards the lake. He was shaken from his thoughts when he heard voices coming his way. He stilled; his hand went to the hilt of his sword. For just a moment, Isolde escaped his thoughts.

'Tristan!' It was only Merlin.

Tristan swallowed and pushed his sword back into its scabbard. 'Morning.'

Merlin came towards him, laden down with baskets and bags full of foliage. Another of Gaius' missions it would seem. If the boy wasn't scavenging weeds for the physician he was polishing boots, or armour, or tack for Arthur.

The King's cousin was with him.

'I didn't expect to find you here.' Merlin was smiling, the way he did when he had no idea that something was wrong.

'I didn't expect to find her here,' Tristan said, quick to turn attention away from him.

Ragnelle's eyes flashed. 'Excuse me?'

Tristan raised an eyebrow. 'Forgive me, I was under the impression you weren't meant to go wondering.'

Her gaze was hard, which surprised Tristan. He'd expected her to be more of the retiring type. She'd seemed to give up her claim to the throne so easily that he'd doubted whether she'd had any fight in her.

'No one said as much to me.'

He smirked. 'If they did, would you have stayed in the city?'

There was a moment of uncertainty and Ragnelle glanced at Merlin. 'Yes,' she said at last.

Tristan frowned. 'That's a shame.' Perhaps he'd been right after all. He turned away and looked at Merlin. 'Do you ever get a day off?'

Merlin shrugged. 'Nope. Someone always needs something.'

'What happens when you need something?'

'I get it myself.'

Tristan eyed Ragnelle again. He never seen anyone lend Merlin a hand before; not with the mundane tasks he spent most of his time doing anyway. 'At least you have a helper now.'

Ragnelle frowned. 'You're very rude.'

Tristan smiled for the first time in a long time. 'Am I? Forgive me. People tell me I have a problem with authority.'

'When did I become a figure of authority?'

'You're a member of the nobility, are you not? I thought the nobility had authority over all of us common folk.' He grinned at Merlin, but the boy only looked more awkward. It seemed he had as much of a problem with conflict as Tristan had with authority.

'That's a strange view for a smuggler to have.'

Tristan narrowed his eyes and he and Ragnelle stared at each other for a moment. She was smart, he'd give her that much, and she was quick witted. Maybe Arthur did have reason to fear her after all.

Tristan didn't though. 'Very well, my Lady. You win this round.'

'I wasn't aware we were in a competition.'

Tristan laughed again. 'Perhaps we should abandon it then. We can leave the competition to the knights.'

'You're not a knight?'

He spread his arms out, surprised she should ask. 'Do I act like a knight?'

'No, but neither do most knights.' Ragnelle smiled slightly, which suited her better than the frown she'd worn a moment before.

'Um...'

Tristan had almost forgotten that Merlin was there.

'We should go. It's nearly breakfast time.'

Tristan stepped out of their way. 'Of course, we mustn't keep the King hungry. My Lady.' He actually offered Ragnelle a shallow bow.

She raised an eyebrow. 'Sir.'

Merlin smiled. 'See you later, Tristan.' He turned away and Ragnelle follow after him.

Tristan watched them go, a smile still on his face, and then he turned and saw the lake and thought of Isolde. For just a moment, Ragnelle had distracted him, and the grief had been lifted. It had been a good moment, but now it was gone.

XXX

Galahad was running. He'd woken with plenty of time to spare before breakfast, but had somehow lost it all in reading. He'd also lost two of the buttons from his jerkin, so as he ran towards the King's chamber – where he was meant to be dining at this very moment – the cloth flapped open around his shoulders. Ragnelle would frown and tell him looked a mess. He probably did look a mess, but it still annoyed him that she'd feel the need to tell him so.

He skidded to a halt outside the door to Arthur's chamber and grabbed for the handle, only for it to fly open in his face. The King's manservant nearly walked right into him.

'My Lord!' He halted suddenly, staring at Galahad as though he'd sprung straight up out of the ground. He was carrying a silver platter in his hands, upon which was balanced a single plate piled with sausages, roasted chicken, cheese, fresh bread, grilled tomatoes, grapes and apples, fried beans, mushrooms and onions.

Galahad's stomach grumbled.

'We...I mean, they thought you weren't coming.'

Galahad peered around the servant's shoulder and saw Arthur, Guinevere and Ragnelle staring at him. He felt his cheeks colour slightly. He looked back at the servant, then at the food, before scooping the plate up off the tray and walking past, into the chamber.

'I'm here now, sorry. I was reading.' He sat down on the empty side of the table, opposite Guinevere.

'Reading?' Arthur looked unimpressed by the excuse.

Ragnelle was glaring at him from behind her breakfast plate. Galahad avoided meeting either of their gazes and ended up staring at Guinevere, who forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

'Do tell us what you were reading. It must have been very engrossing.' Guinevere skewered a tomato with her fork, and looked at Arthur in a way that suggested he should do the same. Arthur picked up a chicken leg with his fingers and tore a chunk off with his teeth.

'Yes, do tell,' he said through a mouthful of meat.

Galahad glanced at Ragnelle for an indication as to what he should do, and she gave him a minute nod without looking away from her breakfast.

He looked back at the Queen. 'Well, it was a book about Albion.' He picked up his fork and poked at his mushrooms.

'What about it?' Arthur still had his mouth full.

'About it's history.' He dared to put a mushroom in his mouth, but he was so nervous under Arthur's scrutiny that he could barely taste it.

'I see.' Arthur threw the clean chicken bone down on his plate and leant back in his chair. 'What did it say about Camelot?'

Galahad swallowed. 'Quite a lot of things.'

'Such as?'

Galahad glanced at Ragnelle, but she was glaring at the table. Guinevere was glaring at Arthur, and Arthur's attention was fixed on Galahad.

'Perhaps I could lend you the book? You might find it interesting...Sire.' He added the last part for fear that if he didn't he might be a head shorter by lunchtime.

Ragnelle looked up at him suddenly, aghast.

Guinevere laughed. 'A kind offer, Galahad, but I doubt Arthur would be interested.'

Arthur looked put-out. 'Why wouldn't I be interested?'

Guinevere raised an eyebrow and picked up a grape. 'You don't exactly read a lot.' She popped the grape into her mouth.

Galahad wondered if Arthur always pulled the same face when he felt insulted, or if he had a collection of expressions for such an occurrence.

'I can read.'

Guinevere picked up another grape. 'Of course you can read, you just choose not to.' She turned her smile to Galahad. 'Do you read a lot?'

'Yes.' He took a bite of chicken, encouraged by Guinevere's interest. 'All the time,' he swallowed, 'Your Majesty.'

'You don't have to call me that.' Guinevere popped another grape into her mouth.

'Yes, he does, and what do you mean I choose not to? Is that a bad thing?'

Galahad was thankful that Arthur was too distracted by the slight on his character to take much notice of anything else. He took advantage of the opportunity and shovelled some fried beans into his mouth.

'It's not necessarily a bad thing.' Guinevere was sort-of smirking in Galahad's direction. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with that. 'You're just more of an outdoorsy person.'

It seemed Arthur did pull the same face every time he felt insulted. 'Outdoorsy?' His voice took on the same disgruntled tone as well. 'What does that mean?'

Ragnelle was looking increasingly uncomfortable, but Guinevere was still smiling. 'It doesn't mean anything.'

Arthur cut in before she could continue. 'Yes, it does. It means you think I'm stupid.'

'I don't think you're stupid, Arthur. You couldn't rule a kingdom as well as you do if you were stupid.'

'Exactly.' Arthur seemed partially satisfied with the compliment, but he still looked as though someone had given him a maths equation he couldn't figure out. He turned his gaze back to Galahad. 'And I will borrow that book. It sounds very...illuminating.'

Galahad hid his smile behind a forkful of tomatoes and chicken. 'Yes, your Majesty.' He turned to grin at Ragnelle, but the tiny smile she dared to give him didn't make her look any happier. It was the same smile his father used to give him; the one that didn't reach his eyes.

He looked back at his breakfast plate and tried not hate her for it.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Massive apologies for the long update. Everything was against me over the past few months, from moving house to laptop malfunctions, and now I'm back at uni so updates are likely to remain a little sparodic from now on I'm afraid. However, I do intend to keep going with this story and I'm very grateful to anyone who's willing to keep reading despite my long absences. I'll do my best to keep updates as frequent as I'm able to.

As for this chapter, it was a tricky one, and in an attempt to get it to you a little quicker, I've proof read it one time less than usual. I therefore apologise for any typos or mistakes you might find.

Thanks again for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

**Chapter 4**

'Stop fidgeting.'

Ragnelle's horse snorted at her and shook his mane, before shying his head out of her arms and bending down to snatch up another mouthful of hay. Ragnelle sighed.

'Want a hand?'

She turned and found Merlin watching her, with his own fully-tacked horse in hand. In the courtyard behind him were a row of horses all ready and waiting for their riders. Ragnelle should have known better than to interfere, but she'd been ready an hour before anyone else and sitting around waiting for the rest of the party had been driving her half mad.

'Yes, please.' She handed the bridle over to Merlin and within minutes her horse was tacked up and ready to go.

Merlin patted the gelding's neck a few times. 'What's his name?'

Ragnelle smiled and took the reins Merlin offered her. 'I didn't think it would be smiled upon to name your horse in Camelot.'

'He has to have a name! Otherwise what are you going to call him? Horse?'

'Has Arthur's horse got a name?'

Merlin pulled a face. 'I call him Arthur Two.'

Ragnelle raised an eyebrow. 'Why would you want to do that to the poor creature?'

Merlin shrugged and picked up the reins of his own horse again. 'Because he's greedy and grumpy and self-satisfied.'

'The King or the horse?'

Merlin answered with a smirk and led the way outside.

'Tristan,' Ragnelle said as she walked.

'What about him?' Merlin asked over his shoulder.

'My horse is called Tristan,' she clarified. Merlin turned to look at her with an odd expression. She smiled again, 'After my uncle, not Arthur's resident smuggler.'

'Oh, right, the Black Knight.'

Ragnelle sighed when she heard the tone in his voice. 'I know, it isn't very appropriate. I went through a romantic faze a few years ago.'

'Your uncle wasn't very romantic when I met him.'

Ragnelle frowned, confused.

Merlin looked surprised. 'You know, when he came back from the dead to exact revenge upon Uther.'

'Oh, that actually happened?' Her father had told her that it was all a load of nonsense. In the north news came late and by a dozen tongues, so sometimes things were said that didn't make sense.

'Yeah.' Merlin looked as though he was a long way away for a moment, then he shook his head and offered her an unconvincing smile. 'I'd forgotten he was your uncle.'

Ragnelle got the feeling that that was something she shouldn't have reminded him of. 'Yeah, I guess you'd say I come from bad breeding stock.'

'No more so than Arthur.'

'Exactly,' she said, and then wished she hadn't. Merlin had enough good grace to ignore her, but she wondered if she'd gone too far. Merlin had been good to her since she'd come here, but she still doubted him sometimes.

As they led the horses out into the courtyard, the royal party was coming down the steps: Arthur and Guinevere, with Galahad trailing after them, and Tristan and Gwaine bringing up the rear.

'Hurray up, Merlin, we haven't got all day.' Arthur swung himself up into his saddle and gave Merlin an impatient look that suggested he thought his horse had tacked itself up. Merlin rolled his eyes and said nothing. He left his own horse unattended for a moment to help Ragnelle mount.

'Thank you,' she said, pulling herself gracelessly up into the saddle. Merlin tightened her horse's girth for her before mounting his own mare.

Tristan rode up beside her as they waited for the others to ready themselves. 'Are you a keen hunter, my Lady?' he asked.

Ragnelle glanced over at him. She wasn't sure what to make of Arthur's resident smuggler. She'd seen little of him so far; he seemed to spend most of his time alone in the forest or lingering, unchallenged but uninvited, in Arthur's council chambers. Merlin had told her a little about him: how he'd smuggled for years, and saved Camelot, and lost his lover in the fight.

She shook her head, 'I've not much taste for killing things.' In truth, the thought of the coming hunt turned her stomach. She'd had no taste for death or dead things since the day her mother had died.

'I know what you mean.' Tristan was looking at her in a way that suggested he wasn't lying. Ragnelle thought that of all the people she'd met in Camelot, Tristan was one of the few she might actually be able to get along with.

'Shall we?' Arthur whirled his horse around to face the gates and glanced over his shoulders to see if the others were ready to follow him. When it was clear that they were all mounted, he dug his heels into his horse's sides and left the courtyard at a trot, with Guinevere at his side. Ragnelle kicked her own horse forward and joined the train, behind Galahad and in front of Merlin and Gwaine, with Tristan still by her side. He was quiet company, but company none the less, and for that Ragnelle was thankful.

XXX

It had been a bad hunt. Arthur pursed his lips at the head of the party and kicked his horse on into a trot. Leon rode on one side of him, and Galahad was keeping a fairly good pace on the other. But Gwen, Merlin and Gwaine were lagging behind and Ragnelle didn't even seem to be trying to keep up. Tristan was at the rear, but it seemed to be his prerogative to keep a distance from the rest of them. Arthur had been surprised that he had agreed to come along at all.

He looked over at Galahad. 'Your sister doesn't seem to be having much fun.'

Galahad glanced at him and already Arthur could tell he was on edge. It was irritating the way his cousins tried to dance away from him whenever he spoke to them. It made him suspicious.

'She doesn't like hunting,' was all Galahad gave by way of explanation.

Arthur pulled a face. 'Why? What's not to like?'

Galahad kept glancing around as though he was looking for an escape route. A small, irrational part of Arthur's brain wondered if they were about to be ambushed.

'She doesn't like killing things.'

Arthur laughed. He hadn't meant to, be it seemed ludicrous that Ragnelle should dislike killing things, considering who her father was.

'Where does she think her dinner comes from?'

Galahad shrugged. 'She doesn't eat meat.'

That was definitely weird. Who didn't eat meat? Arthur knew he was pulling that face again – the judgemental one that Gwen hated – but seriously...

'Why doesn't she eat meat?'Even Leon had glanced over curiously.

Galahad shrugged again. 'She says it makes her feel sick. She doesn't like dead things.'

Arthur smirked. It was just like Ragnelle to make life that little bit more difficult. 'She ate meat when I knew her.' At least, he assumed she had. He'd never noticed her not eating meat, but then, he'd never really noticed her at all.

'She stopped after Mother died.' Galahad was starting to sound defensive.

'So? My mother's dead and I still eat meat.' Arthur knew he was being rather callous, but he was irritated. He was always irritated when his cousins were around.

Galahad looked at him funny and Arthur hesitated. It was a expression caught somewhere between anger and shock.

'But she saw,' he said, as though that explained everything.

Arthur didn't understand. 'She saw what? He was starting to feel stupid. Beside him he could see Leon staring, which was unlike him. Clearly they were both missing something.

'She saw Mother fall.'

The bottom dropped out of Arthur's stomach. He hadn't known. He should have, but he hadn't.

'Oh,' he said.

'That's why she went funny then.'

Arthur and Galahad bother turned to look at Leon, who seemed to have spoken without meaning to.

'On top of the walls the other day, she had a funny turn. I thought it was the height.'

'It probably was. She hates heights too,' said Galahad.

Arthur didn't say anything. He shouldn't have spoken without knowing the facts. Gwen told him so all the time; Merlin had told him so before she ever had, but Arthur never listened to Merlin. He was beginning to wonder if he was stupid not to.

'Arthur!'

He turned to look at Gwen.

'We should stop and eat.'

He supposed she was right, although he wasn't that hungry after the conversation he'd just had. Right now all he really wanted to do was get back to the castle and fit in some sword practice whilst the sun was still up.

He pulled his horse to a halt. 'Of course. Merlin, I trust you brought the food?'

Merlin grinned, 'Roast chicken and cheese all round!'

It seemed Ragnelle would just be eating cheese then.

Arthur dismounted and went to help Gwen do the same. He noticed that Ragnelle didn't wait for help; she just swung herself gracelessly out of her saddle and landed with a muffled thump in the bracken. No one else took much notice of her: Gwaine was helping Merlin unloaded the packhorse, Leon was loosening his horse's girth, and Tristan had wandered off into the woods.

Gwen dismounted with all the grace Ragnelle had lacked. He kept his hands on her waist even after her feet had touched the floor.

'What is it?' She touched his cheek and he felt better instantly.

'Nothing.' He kissed her quickly on the lips and then let her go.

Something cracked above them.

'Watch out!'

Arthur turned at Gwaine's shout in time to see the knight grab Ragnelle by the waist. She yelped as she was yanked backwards, but Gwaine had only just acted quickly enough to stop her from being hit by the falling branch. It landed with a crash and her horse reared, screaming.

'Tristan!' Ragnelle shouted.

Tristan came running through the brush, sword unsheathed. 'What?'

Ragnelle wrenched herself from Gwaine's arms and lunged for her horse, somehow succeeding in seizing the reins despite the clumsiness of the action.

'I think she means the horse,' said Merlin.

Arthur frowned. 'What?'

Merlin pointed at Ragnelle's panicking horse with a block of hard cheese. 'The horse is called Tristan.'

The human Tristan sheathed his sword and approached Ragnelle's mount from the other side. Together they managed to calm the shying creature.

Arthur frowned. 'Why is your horse called Tristan?'

Ragnelle had managed to ignore the conversation so far, but now she glanced at Arthur and her eyes were full of doubt.

'No reason,' she said, but Arthur didn't believe her.

'I assume he's not named for this Tristan?'

Human Tristan eyed Arthur like he'd gone mad. Ragnelle diverted her gaze to her horse's muzzle. 'Of course not.'

'So who's he named for?'

'No one.' Ragnelle was a poor liar compared to her father.

Arthur bristled. 'Nothing to do with your insane uncle, then?'

Ragnelle glared. It was the most fight he'd seen in her since she'd arrived, and he didn't like it.

'He was your uncle too.' Her words were meant to cut and Arthur felt the sting. But in truth, Tristan de Bois had been a stranger to him; a shadow that had come to haunt him for a moment, and then had vanished beneath the weight of his father's sword.

'I didn't name my horse after him.'

Ragnelle's eyes were shaded with darkness, and Arthur decided that it was the colour of deceit. In truth, she looked more afraid than anything else, but Arthur disliked the thought, so he ignored it.

XXX

Lunch had been a tense affair. Ragnelle seemed to have elected to stay silent after her and Arthur's altercation, and despite Guinevere and Merlin's attempts to lighten the atmosphere, the presence of the King's cousins was a heavy one. Gwaine was glad when they started moving again, and with his belly full and his temper frayed, Arthur seemed determined to find himself a hapless animal to take his anger out on.

Gwaine soon noticed that Ragnelle was trailing behind. Even Tristan had opted to overtake her when they finally picked up the trail of a lone deer, and Ragnelle hung back until she was barely in sight of the hunting party. Gwaine would have preferred to be riding up ahead, where the action was, but he supposed it was his duty to protect the King's family, even if the King himself didn't seem that bothered about them. He pulled his horse to a halt and waited for her to catch up, before falling in step beside her.

'You seem unenthusiastic about our hunt,' he commented, as a way of breaking the ice.

'I don't like to kill things.'

'I see.' Gwaine had overheard the conversation between Arthur and Galahad earlier and decided he didn't want to delve any deeper into that side of Ragnelle, so he changed the subject. 'Do you miss your home?'

'Yes,' she said at once, 'The weather's colder up North, but the people are a little more...' she trailed off, unable to find the right word.

'Forgiving?' Gwaine offered. Ragnelle glanced at him uncertainly, but didn't disagree.

They heard a shout up ahead and Arthur kicked his horse into a canter. The rest of the party was quick to pick up the pace, but Gwaine and Ragnelle were a long way behind and it was a struggle not to lose them. The path they were following was not a particularly well kept one. Tree roots grew across the way and bracken had crept up around it. Their horses kicked up clouds of soft earth as they ran.

Gwaine's mare reared when she heard Ragnelle's horse scream. He managed to keep his seat, but as he tried to calm his own mount he saw Ragnelle hadn't managed to do the same. Her horse was on the ground, his breath heaving and his eyes rolling. Ragnelle had landed on the path and she wasn't moving.

'Ragnelle!' He didn't think to use her title. He dismounted, leaving his horse still dancing with fear and running to her side. For a short moment he thought she was unconscious, and for an even shorter moment he thought she might be dead, but when he got to her she was awake and breathing.

She struggled to get up, but Gwaine put a hand on her waist. 'Slowly.'

'I'm okay,' she said, but her breathing was as heavy as her horse's and her face was twisted with pain. Gwaine helped her to sit up.

'What hurts?' he asked.

'My arm.' As soon as she was upright Gwaine could tell that her left shoulder was dislocated. 'Tristan,' she said, and he wondered why she'd asked for the smuggler before realising she meant her horse.

By now, the others had noticed the accident and had turned themselves around; the human Tristan had dismounted and paused a moment by Ragnelle's side. 'Are you alright?' he asked.

She nodded, and the ex-smuggler went instead to the fallen horse's aid.

'Merlin, see if she's okay.' Even Gwaine noticed Arthur's hard tone, but one glance in the King's direction told him that Arthur cared more than he was letting on. He dismounted, but kept his distance.

Merlin did as was asked. As he knelt down beside Ragnelle, Gwaine simply said 'Her shoulder,' and Merlin understood.

'Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?' he asked Ragnelle. She shook her head. Merlin glanced at Gwaine, and then looked back at Ragnelle. 'I have to push your shoulder back. It'll hurt.'

Ragnelle swallowed and nodded, but Gwaine felt her grip tighten around his hand. Until now he hadn't noticed she'd been holding it.

Merlin readjusted his grip on her arm. 'One,' he said.

Ragnelle's grip was vice-like. Gwaine squeezed her hand reassuringly.

'Two,' Merlin twisted Ragnelle's arm without warning and her should clunked back into place. She gasped, but made no other discernible sound. She was stronger than she looked; or else more used to pain than Gwaine had thought.

Merlin looked sheepish. 'Sorry.' He turned to look at Arthur. 'She needs to go back to the castle.'

Gwaine suddenly became very aware that he was still holding Ragnelle's hand. He let go and stood up, because he felt rather silly kneeling beside her. 'I'll take her,' he offered.

Arthur nodded, 'Very well. Merlin, will she be okay until Gwaine gets her to Gaius.'

Merlin nodded.

'Good, then you can stay with us.' Arthur turned to look at Tristan. 'What about the horse?'

The smuggler was smoothing his hand down the poor creature's neck, trying to calm it. 'His leg's broken.'

Arthur looked grim. 'Will you deal with it?'

Tristan nodded without looking up.

'Don't kill my horse.' There was a surprising power behind Ragnelle's words. She grabbed Gwaine's hand and tried to pull herself up, but her legs were still shaking and Gwaine had to grab her by the waist and heft her to her feet to stop her falling back down. He didn't let go, just in case.

'I'm sorry, Ragnelle, there's no other choice,' Arthur told her, not without sympathy. Gwaine felt Ragnelle sag against his side, as though the fight had gone right out of her. When she drew breath it shook with pain, although whether it was physical or emotional Gwaine couldn't tell.

He realised he was staring at her and looked away, towards the royal party. Guinevere was pale, and Galahad was hanging back, uncertain. That annoyed him. 'Are you coming?' he asked pointedly.

Galahad hesitated, 'Err, yeah.' He took a step forward, but then Arthur put a hand out to stop him.

'We don't want to swamp her. Gwaine, you take Ragnelle back to the castle, we'll follow on after.'

Gwaine couldn't tell if Arthur was being cruel or kind, but he knew there was no point in arguing. Galahad swallowed, but made no further attempt to get to his sister's side. Gwaine felt his anger flare, but held his tongue.

'Fine,' was all he said, and then to Ragnelle: 'Come on.' He tried to steer her towards his horse, but her hand squeezed tight around his shoulder to stop him. She didn't look him in the eye, and she didn't say a word, but Gwaine thought he understood. He threw Merlin an appealing look, and the other man seemed to get the hint.

'We should keep going,' he said to Arthur, 'That stag's getting away.'

Arthur nodded, as though he'd barely heard, and then looked at Merlin, frowning. 'What?' It dawned on him. 'Oh, I mean, yes, you're right. Let's go.' He turned towards his horse, before hesitating and half turning back to look at Ragnelle. For a moment he looked as though he might say something to her, but then he closed his mouth and mounted his horse without a word.

Galahad also elected to stay mostly silent. He too hesitated before mounting, and then glanced at Ragnelle a few times before eventually saying 'See you back at the castle.' Ragnelle offered him a shaking smile in return.

When the hunting party had gone, Gwaine helped Ragnelle over to where her horse was lying and she knelt down next to the dying grey's head.

'It'll be quick,' said Tristan.

Ragnelle nodded, but she hardly seemed to be listening. She was rubbing behind her horse's ears with her good hand. 'I'm sorry,' she kept saying, over and over, as though she was responsible for the rabbit hole that had broken his leg.

When Gwaine decided he couldn't stand it any longer, he bent down and put his hands on Ragnelle's waist. 'Come on, we should go.'

Ragnelle nodded. Her horse's eyes were half closed; soothed and ready for sleep. She let Gwaine lift her back to her feet and walked over to his horse without too much help. Beneath his hands, he could feel her trembling, but he didn't say anything. He got her up onto his mare and then mounted behind her.

'Will you join the hunting party once it's done?' he asked Tristan.

The smuggler shook his head.

Gwaine nodded. 'See you back at the castle then.' He kicked his horse into an easy trot; one hand holding the reins, the other around Ragnelle's waist. She didn't need it there to keep her steady – now that the moment had past she was able to keep her seat well enough – but some unconscious part of Gwaine's head thought his touch might comfort her; the same way her touch had soothed the horse. Eventually, her trembling stopped and her breathing calmed, so it seemed to be working.

XXX

When the hunting party finally got back to the castle the sky was darkening and they were all but spent. The stag had gotten away; after Ragnelle's accident no one had had much of a stomach to keep chasing it. Galahad hoped the news would cheer his sister up. He should have gone with her back to the castle, he knew that now, but in the moment he hadn't had the fight in him. He'd seen the distain in Gwaine's eyes when he hadn't argued against Arthur's command for him to stay, and now he felt the same distain for himself. Ragnelle wouldn't have left his side had their places been reversed.

He wondered if Gaheris would be disappointed.

The horses clattered into the courtyard and stable hands rushed out to meet them. Galahad loosed his feet from his stirrups and sat for a moment, stretching his legs and dreading the dismount. They'd been riding so long that his thighs had gone numb and his back had cramped. A boy came to take the reins of his horse and he swung his leg over the back of his saddle. When he hit the ground his legs betrayed him and he staggered backwards, only just managing to stay on his feet. Arthur glanced his way scathingly and Galahad felt heat prickling behind his eyes.

'You can tell your sister that when she's well enough she can have her pick of the stables. Any horse without a rider is hers if she wants it,' said Arthur graciously.

Galahad nodded, and then realised it would seem discourteous not to answer. 'Thank you, my Lor... Your Majesty.' He should have said more, but he knew he'd just mess it up if he did. He had never been much good with words.

His horse was led away and he began to make his way towards the palace steps, before hesitating, thinking he should wait for the King to take the lead. When he turned to look, however, Arthur was already striding off in the direction of the practice yard. Galahad caught Guinevere's eye, and she smiled.

He liked Guinevere. He didn't feel under as much pressure when he was in her presence. Ragnelle didn't seem to like her much, but he thought that was just jealousy: Guinevere had come to be loved more in a year than Ragnelle had in a lifetime.

The Queen made her way towards him. 'You must be worried about your sister. We can go and visit her together if you like.'

If truth be told, Galahad didn't really want to go and visit Ragnelle. He felt bad for it, and of course he was worried, but Ragnelle had always been the one who'd looked after him. When he fell of his horse she'd clean the dirt out of his cuts and make him get back on. The thought of doing it the other way around was awkward.

None-the-less, he nodded. 'Yes, Your Majesty.'

She looked embarrassed as she led the way up the steps. 'You don't have to call me that.'

_Yes, I do_, he thought, but he didn't say anything.

'I'm sorry Arthur didn't let you come back to the castle with her. He meant well.' Guinevere didn't sound entirely certain of herself as she excused her husband's actions, but Galahad nodded and smiled as best he could.

'She wouldn't have wanted me anyway.'

Guinevere frowned. 'Why do you say that?' she asked.

Galahad shrugged. 'I just guess she would have wanted Gaheris, not me.'

'Are they close?' Guinevere was trying to be polite by asking after his siblings, but the topic grated on Galahad. He knew his jealousy was unfounded, but that didn't make it go away.

He shrugged again, 'Twins always are, aren't they?'

Guinevere looked surprised. 'I didn't realise they were twins.'

Galahad started to shrug for a third time and then stopped himself. He'd look simple if he kept doing it.

Guinevere seemed to sense his discomfort and neatly changed the subject. 'I'm sorry about Ragnelle's horse. Was she very fond of him?'

Galahad thought about Ragnelle's grey gelding lying in the dirt with his eyes rolling in pain. He'd seen his sister shaking, and for a moment he'd known exactly what he needed to do. Only he hadn't done it.

He felt the heat behind his eyes again. 'Yeah, Dad got him for her.' After a moment, he realised what he'd said and glanced sidelong at Guinevere, suddenly afraid. She may be kind and gracious, but she was still Arthur's wife. Gaheris had told him, above all things, not to mention their father; especially not around people close to Arthur.

Guinevere looked sad rather than angry though. 'I doubt any horse Arthur can give her will replace him, but I hope the offer will comfort her a little.'

Once, a few years ago, he and Ragnelle had seen the cook ring the neck of a chicken they were going to eat for dinner. Ragnelle had turned bone white and almost fainted, and she'd been unwell for days after it had happened. Since then she hadn't eaten a bite of meat. She couldn't stomach the sight of death; she could barely stomach the thought of it, so no matter how many gracious offers or acts of kindness the King and Queen offered her, she'd still be sick with grief for days. Whether it was for the horse or their long-dead mother, Galahad couldn't say. To him Ragnelle's turns made little sense, but he hadn't been there when their mother had hurled herself from Camelot's walls. He couldn't even remember their mother's face.

They had come to a part of the castle Galahad hadn't been to before, and they stopped outside a door which was ajar. Guinevere knocked a few times and then pushed the door open. As Queen, she had no need to knock, but Galahad could tell that she'd been a servant too long to do away with her manners entirely.

Behind the door was a light room, filled with strange instruments and the smell of herbs. The old man was there as well – the one who was always present at Arthur's council meetings. Galahad plucked his name from somewhere in his memory: Gaius. He'd heard his father mention him half a hundred times. He had been Uther's physician, and the closest thing the old King had had to a friend. Agravaine had always spoken about the old man with contempt, but Galahad supposed that after everything that had happened, he probably shouldn't trust his father's judgement. Ragnelle had also mentioned the physician a few times. As far as Galahad could tell, Gaius had been one of the few people who had seen any worth in Ragnelle at all; it was one more person than had ever seen any worth in Galahad.

Gaius smiled at Guinevere, 'Your majesty.'

Guinevere smiled back, 'You don't have to call me that, Gaius.'

'You'll need to get used to it soon enough, Gwen. You can't be a serving girl as well as a Queen.' It seemed Gaius had the guts to say what Galahad did not.

'We came to see Ragnelle. Is she okay? Galahad was worried.'

Galahad thought Guinevere was gracious to bring him into the conversation. He was more used to standing on the sidelines and being ignored. Gaius glanced at him with an expression Galahad couldn't read and then turned away, busying himself with herbs and spices.

'She's asleep in her chambers. Apart from her arm she wasn't badly hurt, just shocked. I gave her an infusion of arnica to help with that, and to keep the bruising down.'

Guinevere looked at Galahad uncertainly. 'Perhaps we should let her rest. She's had a hard day.'

Galahad was shamefully relieved and nodded. 'Yes, you're right,' and then he hesitated and glanced at Gaius. 'She'll be alright though?'

The physician tilted his head curiously, before giving a curt nod. 'I see no reason why not.'

Galahad swallowed and got the feeling that Gaius was as disdainful of him as Gwaine had been. He tried to shake the feeling off by nodding and taking a step back towards the door. 'Good,' and then, as an afterthought, 'Thank you.' He took another step backwards and offered Guinevere a stiff bow. 'Your majesty, I'll leave you now. I should go and...practice. For the tournament.' It had been a good enough excuse for Arthur, but after saying it Galahad realised that it made him sound even more callous, considering his sister's injuries.

Guinevere gave no hint that she thought the same, but Galahad thought she must. She smiled kindly and inclined her head. 'Of course.'

He ducked out of the surgery and walked away from it as fast as he could. He couldn't remember how they'd got there, but he figured if he wandered the halls for long enough he'd find a way out. He'd have to go and practice for the tournament now, whether he wanted to or not, because he couldn't let anyone think that he was a liar. He was not his father's son. He was not. He was not.

That, in itself, was the greatest lie of all.


End file.
